


Catfishing

by al_ex_an_d_er_hamiltons



Series: The Fisherman AU Series [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe, David is only in this for like a second, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Patrick finds a cat, fisherman AU, it's mostly about Patrick and Mack, patrick is a fisherman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22595227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/al_ex_an_d_er_hamiltons/pseuds/al_ex_an_d_er_hamiltons
Summary: After some prompting from David, Fisherman Patrick reminisces about the day he found his cat, Mackerel, and brought him home.A short continuation of the ~Patrick is a Fisherman~ universe from my story "You Were the Ocean, I Was Just a Stone"
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: The Fisherman AU Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1649650
Comments: 39
Kudos: 178





	Catfishing

**Author's Note:**

> S/o to Bahiyyih for the title!
> 
> This is unbeta'd and just something short I threw together because i haven't written anything since Fisherman Au and i missed my boys.

“When is Mack’s birthday?” David asked suddenly. Patrick looked over his shoulder at him from where he stood in the kitchen, tearing fresh basil for their homemade pizzas.

David was lounged on the couch, feet dangling over one arm. Mack was settled onto his chest, and Patrick could hear his loud, rumbling purr even over the sounds of the Smiths playing softly in the background.

“What?” he asked, sure he hadn’t heard David correctly.David sat up slightly to look at him, cradling Mack gently to his chest so as to not dislodge him.

“Mack’s birthday. When is it?”

Patrick breathed a short laugh, a huff of air through the nose.

“I don’t know, David. He was already a few months old when I found him, I think.”

“You’ve never celebrated Mackerel’s birthday?!” David gasped, looking affronted enough that it prompted Patrick to fully turn towards him, leaning against the kitchen counter in order to give the matter his full attention.

“David. He’s a cat. _He_ doesn’t even know when his birthday is,” he said patiently.

“Okay, well, what about celebrating the day you found him? I’m sure you remember that, don’t you?”

Patrick looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, thinking back to the day he’d found his feline friend.

“Yeah,” he said softly, smiling at the memory. “I do.”

* * *

Patrick was miserable. It was a chilly, damp day on the boat- the sky choosing to spit and hiss intermittently throughout the morning instead of raining properly and getting it over with. The day’s catch hadn’t been great, and morale overall was low as they turned the vessel back towards the docks.

Patrick was grumpily stacking crates and organizing traps in one corner of the boat when a flash of orange caught his eye. Peering behind the stack of crates furthest in the corner, he spotted a small, scrawny orange kitten.

“What are _you_ doing here?” He exclaimed, pulling the crates away from the outer wall of the boat cabin. 

The kitten scurried backwards fearfully, and Patrick quickly crouched down and lowered his voice.

“Hey, hey! You’re okay little guy. Come here…” He pulled one glove off and reached towards the little creature, allowing it to sniff tentatively at his fingertips. After a moment, the cat butted up against his hand, purring gently. Patrick felt a reluctant smile growing across his lips as he gently scooped the cat up, cradling it against his chest. Its tiny claws clung to his sweater even as it continued purring away. Patrick ducked into the cabin of the boat, picking up a crate along the way, murmuring nonsense under his breath the entire time to soothe the animal. He found a towel tucked away on one of the shelves of the cabin, and arranged it inside the crate before gently setting the kitten down among the terrycloth folds.

It gazed up at him, opening its small mouth and releasing a high-pitched, squeaky meow that was louder than seemed possible for its little body.

It was a tiny, precious thing, all delicate whiskers and soft ears and pink jellybean toes. Patrick was definitely a dog person, but even he could admit the kitten was cute.He frowned as he noticed the tip of one of its ears missing, a jagged edge that still had an angry, puckered pink like it was newly healed. The kitten meowed again, and Patrick gently ran one finger across its nose, over its head and down its back.

“Stay here, buddy. I’ll be back to check on you in a minute.”

Patrick turned to head back out onto the deck, and heard a scrabbling, scratching noise behind him. The kitten was crawling up the side of the crate, struggling to follow after him. Rolling his eyes, he reached down and picked the kitten up again.

“Fine. Come on.” He unzipped the chest pocket of his waders, depositing the kitten inside. The kitten curled up inside the pocket, his face peeking out over the edge as Patrick finished up his tasks as the boat docked, earning laughs from the rest of the crew.

“What am I supposed to do with you now?” Patrick asked the cat as he stepped off the boat a short time later. The cat blinked up at him sleepily and yawned.

“Why don’t you take him to Ted’s?” Bob, one of Patrick’s fellow crewmen, suggested helpfully. “He might know if someone lost him, or be able to help you find someone to take him.”

Patrick nodded, murmuring thanks to Bob and heading off in the direction of Ted’s vet clinic.

“Patrick! Hey! How are you?” Ted called cheerfully as Patrick stepped through the door. Before Patrick had a chance to reply, Ted gasped suddenly, having spotted the kitten,its head still peeking his head out of Patrick’s chest pocket.He hurried over, a grin on his face.

“Who is this little guy?” He asked excitedly as Patrick gently pulled the kitten out, placing it into Ted’s outstretched arms.

“It’s a cat,” he said, shrugging. “I found it on the boat.”

“Lucky you!”

Patrick raised his eyebrows skeptically at Ted.

“I don’t know about that. I’m not really a cat person. I just didn’t want to leave it out in the cold, and it’s ear looks hurt?”

Ted hummed and made soft “tsk” noises as he placed the kitten on the examination table, fingers prodding gently.

“It looks like a pretty superficial injury, and it’s healing well. Nothing to worry about, right little guy?” Amazingly, the kitten was purring up a storm even as Ted lifted its lips to check its gums, took its temperature, and prodded its belly.

“So….what do we do with it?” Patrick asked uncomfortably. Ted looked up at him, nonplussed.“I mean. I don’t want to keep it.”

Ted frowned at him, his expression momentarily disappointed, but recovered quickly.

“Well. I can put an ad up to see if someone wants to adopt him, if you’d like.”

Patrick breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, let’s do that.”

Ted nodded slowly, a small smile on his face.

“I don’t suppose you could foster him until we find an adopter? I don’t really have anywhere to keep him, we’re pretty full.” Ted gestured to the row of kennels behind him, full of yapping dogs. Patrick hesitated, but just then the cat turned its gaze towards him,purring intensifying.

“Sure. Just get that ad up as soon as you can. Like I said, I’m… not really a cat person.”

“You’ve got it, bud!” Ted said cheerfully, before sending him on his way supplied with kitten food, a litter box, a cardboard cat carrier, and a few other kitten essentials.

Patrick carried the kitten home, feeling strangely anxious. He could barely take care of himself some days, he thought; how was he supposed to keep a baby animal alive?

He settled the cat into his apartment, doing as Ted said and showing it- he, Patrick mentally corrected, Ted had said it was a boy cat- where the litter box and food stations were located.

Patrick tried his best to ignore the cat that evening, let it settle in and do whatever cats do, but he kept following him everywhere. Patrick couldn’t even go to the bathroom without the cat meowing pathetically from the other side of the door.He grudgingly scritched him behind the ears as the cat sat on Patrick’s lap when he settled on the couch to watch a baseball game before heading to bed.

“Absolutely not,” Patrick warned as the kitten attempted to claw his way up the quilt onto the bed. “I draw the line at sleeping with me. You can stay in the living room.” He scooped the kitten up and gently set him outside his bedroom, closing the door firmly between them.

Patrick had just started to doze off when he heard the scratching. He rolled over, trying to ignore it, but it only grew louder. Letting out a frustrated groan, Patrick crossed the room and rapped his knuckles sharply on the door.

“Hey. Knock it off.” The scratching stopped, and Patrick returned to bed, satisfied that he’d scared the cat off.

A few minutes later the scratching started again, this time joined by elongated, pathetic-sounded meows.

“Jesus Christ. You have _got_ to be kidding me.” Patrick kicked back his covers, getting out of bed and yanking his door open. The kitten peered up at him, his green eyes luminous in the low light filtering through the windows from the streetlamps outside.

Patrick huffed, picking the kitten up and carrying it over to his bed.

“You can sleep in here, but you better stay on your own side of the bed,” Patrick told him sternly.

As Patrick laid down, the kitten curled up on the spare pillow next to him, purring intensely. Patrick rolled his eyes, turning his back towards the cat and finally drifting off to sleep. 

When Patrick woke up the next morning, the kitten was curled up on his bare shoulder,his tiny face tucked up under his chin. All at once, Patrick absolutely melted. He _was_ a very cute cat. And Patrick could use a companion, he supposed.

Reaching for his phone, doing his best not to disturb his new roommate,he shot a quick text to Ted and asked him to pull down the adoption ad.


End file.
